Chapter 100 (and a Half)
by pseudocitrus
Summary: Tomoe is saved but is acting strange and avoiding Nanami. Takes place after chapter 100. (Nanami/Tomoe lemon)


**notes:**

+ wooowww chapter 100 was so great and inspiring and

+ i have no shame. sorry

+ not sorry;;

+ let me know if you like it or find errors, & enjoy ^_^)

* * *

**Chapter 100.5**

Even after Mikage had said it he couldn't bring himself to believe it. Her voice pierced the blackness, shone a light into the cold of the mirror against his back.

"_Tomoe_!"

His heart leaped and he held it back like it was a dog rushing into human traffic. The effort was astounding. It drained him to the marrow. It reached into him and dragged tears into his eyes. _Stop._ He hated it — the longing that filled the empty spaces in his body, and around him. He wanted to fall into the hollows and just vanish.

And yet.

"I've come for you!" _Look!_ her voice demanded, and despite himself his body stood, each muscle pinched up and up, puppeted by deity-magic, or hope, or something else he had no more strength to resist.

He looked up and all the strength drained from him at once to see her face there, bright, and all at once he was on the riverbank again, limbs cold and numb and dragging him centimeter by centimeter into the darkness. Maybe this was it, then — maybe he was finally dead after all — and this was her ghost, one last glimpse of her, before his demon's soul parted ways forever.

The ghost spoke. "I promised…that I would be yours, Tomoe." The ghost of her smiled at him — _no_ — and held out the pin — _no no no —_ but he couldn't stop — there she was, right in front of him — his heart leaped — he _reached —_

His hand grasped hers — his nail tapping the cracked plastic of a hairpin — and then he grabbed her, pulled her from midair, into him, warm and solid. In a moment every breadth of cold and darkness left him, unhooking from his skin. He was filled with heat — or rather, no longer filled with cold — he sucked air in like he had spent days submerged beneath ice. It felt like the first breath he had taken in months — years — decades.

"Let me see," she said, and she took his face in her hands, and he watched her as she examined him, her eyes wide with concern and then happiness.

"The markings are gone." His face was unmarked, his eyes unclouded, clear, seeing her, seeing _her —_ finally, finally, finally. Tears blurred her vision. Her next words wobbled through a grin she couldn't hold back.

"Tomoe, who…am I?"

He pulled her smile to him and kissed her. When he did, something grabbed all the hollows of him and filled them with light, a different kind than the green deity-magic, stronger, brighter, demanding. He felt weak again, on the riverbank, lighter than air, lifted up. He grasped her hair like he might at the shore after drowning. He tasted her tears in the soft crease of her mouth. When he withdrew his voice was quiet.

"You're Nanami."

"Correct!" She laughed.

_And from now on…I'll show you all the time how much I like you, Tomoe._

:::

_There's no way,_ some part of him whispered. There's no way it's really her.

"It is me," Nanami said, as if she could read his mind. "It was me that saved you from the riverbank. And I fed you those rice cakes you like, when you were sick.

"Come on, Tomoe," she started, standing happily, "let's go back, let's meet everyone," but when she stood he reached for her hand and clutched it, held it back.

"Stop," he muttered, "just...just..."

He crooked a hand over his forehead, rubbing. It ached. The sight of her retreating back...

She looked down at him, watched him sway slightly, and realized he must still be weak. She took his hands in hers.

"It's okay, Tomoe. I'll help you," she said, and pulled him up. He swayed on his feet and and hooked one of his arms around her shoulders. He was heavy — and warm — she flushed slightly feeling his breath beside her face but he didn't seem to notice, seemed to be concentrating on staggering forward. As she approached, Mikage came forward to help her.

"Good job, Nanami," he whispered, taking Tomoe's other shoulder, "as expected of a true land god," and Nanami beamed. Together they carried Tomoe out of the mirror.

:::

There was havoc the moment they were back in the real world. They managed to get Tomoe into the floating cart, where he slumped against the wall, unable to do anything but flick his ears while Mizuki wailed and fussed and attempted to start a fight.

"How could you put Nanami-chan through so much trouble?! And _me_! We were so worried, you — you stupid fox!"

"Not now," Tomoe muttered, looking away, and Mizuki blinked, taken aback, and retreated to Nanami's side.

"Nanami-chan," he pouted, " there's still something wrong with Tomoe."

"Don't worry! Just give him some time to recover!"

All he needed was time, and then he'd be back to his usual self, and they could enjoy their everyday life again - that's what she thought - that's what she was excited for. When they arrived back at the shrine, Kotetsu and Onikiri felt Tomoe's presence immediately and came out and clung to him, wailing so loud that the dragon court and Himemiko woke up and started to crowd around him too.

"Sorry — sorry everyone," Nanami tried, "but Tomoe is — is really tired, so — so please let him have rest!"

But everyone insisted on helping, and by the time they left Tomoe was swathed in blankets, one each per visitor, and was blinking blearily from beneath them all.

"Are you feeling okay, Tomoe?" Nanami asked before she went to bed. "Do you need anything else?"

"No," he said, voice muffled by the blankets. His eyes were nearly shut. They blinked blankly at the ceiling.

"And you're not too hot under there?"

"No."

"Should I prepare some water before you sleep? Or, or tea? Do you want tea?"

"No."

"Okay, okay! Just making sure. I'll — I'll stop bothering you. Rest well, okay?"

He glanced over. "Are you going to your own room?"

"Ah — ah, yeah! Should I..." She flushed slightly. "Um, do you want me to bring my futon in here beside you?"

He looked back at the ceiling, and after a pause said, "No."

"Oh...okay. Okay. Yeah, you need your rest, I don't want to bother you." She made herself laugh — hesitated — then reached out and brushed the hair from his face, leaned down and kissed his forehead. She straightened, waited for some kind of reaction, but his eyes were shut — he was already asleep.

"Goodnight, Tomoe," she whispered. "I'm...I'm really happy you're back."

As she stood, Tomoe's ear flicked. He watched as she left, sliding the door shut behind her.

:::

There was a lot to do now that she was back. There was schoolwork she'd missed — explanations she had to keep straight — she decided to stick to something that was mostly the truth ("Tomoe got sick and I needed to take care of him,"), which people accepted with their condolences.

"Finally Namami takes care of the one that always takes care of her," Kei-chan laughed. "How romantic."

And it would have been if it were true. But when she rushed home from the shrine everything always seemed well in order. The shrine spirits and Mizuki would be milling around, cleaning and drinking sake, and Tomoe would already be sleeping, a bowl of soup emptied out beside him. Even Mikage was helping to take care of some of the shrine duties, though he was once again in and out with the breeze, and schoolwork took Nanami so much time that she didn't have enough energy to try searching for him, much less thank him again for his support.

She always sat a while with Tomoe when she came home, hoping he would wake up, and stifled her disappointment when he was always asleep. After a week, Nanami sighed and took the empty soup bowl into the kitchen, where she found Mizuki despondently opening and closing the refrigerator.

"Don't we have food?" Nanami asked.

"Just these leeks," Mizuki said, poking at one and shuddering. "And they're going fast. Even my sake is running out faster than I expected…"

"That reminds me! Thanks for making that soup for Tomoe each day, Mizuki! Um, though, if you like, maybe sometime you could allow me to make it for him."

But Mizuki just looked up at her with a frown. "Soup, Nanami-chan?"

"Yeah, the...the bowls of soup. Aren't you making that?"

"No! My specialty is sake, Nanami-chan," Mizuki sniffed. "I don't split favorites. Much as you are my favorite and only god, despite that Mikage person."

"Then...then is Kotetsu or Onikiri making it? Or Mikage-san?"

"Nope, not us!" Onikiri and Kitetsu exclaimed when she found and asked them.

"Then...then maybe it's Mikage-san?"

"Mikage-sama..._cooking_? Oh no," Kotetsu said, eye wide, "definitely not."

"Then...then who...?"

"Tomoe-dono is doing it himself, Nanami-sama," Onikiri explained.

"T-Tomoe?! But he's still recovering!"

"He doesn't move a lot, it's true, but he makes soup for himself while you're at school. And I think he walks a little at night when you're sleeping, as well."

Tomoe...was _awake_? And doing things? When she was gone? She swallowed; her chest hurt.

"I...I see..."

"Don't worry, Nanami-sama," Onikiri told her cheerfully. "I'm sure Tomoe just doesn't want to show you his weakness, or some other fox demon thing like that. They really are hard to understand sometimes."

"So mysterious!"

But she was hurt. Why wasn't he talking with her, if he was already able to wake up and walk around? She woke up early the next morning, determined to make soup for him before he could do it himself, but when she arrived at the kitchen she was shocked to smell that there had obviously already been some activity there. Furthermore, there was something on the table: a bento box, neatly wrapped, next to her school bag.

"Tomoe!" she exclaimed, opening the door to his room — but it was empty. His futon and the blankets were neatly stacked away.

"He's...he's not here?"

"I saw him go out on a walk," Mizuki said, following her with her bento box. He had unraveled it and was examining it; as he continued, he plucked an omelette roll from it and pushed it into his mouth. "Don't worry, Nanami-chan. Foxes are cruel, miserable, weird creatures, and he'll be back."

Why was he avoiding her? Didn't Tomoe remember his promise to her? Hadn't he kissed her? She felt tears in her eyes and angrily pushed them back in. No. No. She didn't want to be mad at him. If this was how he was choosing to recover, she wanted to accept it.

But she searched her school bag for paper and a pen.

_Tomoe — thank you for the bentou! Hope to see you soon, rest well! -Nanami_

She tucked it in the folded-up futon, rescued her partially-eaten lunch from Mizuki, and went to class.

:::

It was a long day, made even longer by her worrying, not to mention the extra hours of tutoring after school that she begged Ami and Kei-chan for. By the time she returned to the shrine it was dark, and she was exhausted, and the food that was laid out on the table was already cold and halfway eaten.

"I'm so sorry, Nanami-sama," Mizuki wailed, "I'm sorry I ate it, but I was so hungry," and Nanami smiled at him after searching the table for a reply note and finding nothing.

"It's okay, you can have it. I grabbed some food before I came back," she explained, and Mizuki gazed at her appreciatively and fell on what was left.

On her way to her room she passed by Tomoe's room and paused, and swallowed. The door was shut. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, then inhaled deeply and slid it open, just a crack. The hallway light fell over a lump in the futon, and she sighed in relief. So Tomoe was back after all. But he was facing away from her, and was quiet. She wanted to go inside — ask if he was okay — kiss his forehead — or maybe even — she put her fingers against her lips, pressing them softly. Her belly clenched. More than anything, she wanted to go inside the room — push herself beneath the blankets — fit herself to him, like in the past, when he had curled against her. To her it was like yesterday, and with a falling heart she realized that for him it was decades ago, decades of decades. Maybe...maybe he didn't remember after all...how warm it felt together. Maybe...he didn't quite believe in that promise anymore, despite everything.

Or maybe he really was just recovering, in his own way. She took a deep breath, and let it out slow._ Everything is fine, Nanami._

"Goodnight, Tomoe," she whispered, and couldn't tell if he was awake, but added anyway: "Thank you for lunch. It was delicious."

She slid the door shut. She waited for a while, listening, but heard nothing, and she sighed and returned back to her room to get ready for bed.

:::

She failed her test over and over again, and after waking up for the third time feeling sick and panicked, Nanami sat up and put her head in her hands. Why was it that she could go hundreds of years into the past, face a fallen god, and demons — and yet the thing that haunted her at night was _school_?

Maybe tea would help. She staggered into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, glad for her fleece pajamas in the chill night. She was in front of the kettle when she realized that the hallway had looked wrong when she passed it, and when she looked back she confirmed it: the shouji doors were open, and there was a shadow on it, a shadow being cast from the porch. A shadow with ears.

She made herself walk calmly to the hallway, and peered around the wall. Her heart leaped.

"Tomoe!" she said happily, and his ear flicked and he glanced back at her. She walked out hurriedly to meet him. He was sitting, leaning against the wall with a shallow cup of sake in his hand, and she wanted to sit next to him but beside him was a jar of sake. Seeing it there, she suddenly had a strange feeling like she was interrupting something, and hung back.

"Ah — how are you, Tomoe?"

"I'm fine." He didn't look at her. He sipped.

"That's...that's great. Um, thank you for lunch. And dinner. It was really delicious."

"I know you let that snake eat part of it."

She laughed. "Well, what I was able to eat of it was delicious. But you really shouldn't be worrying about me eating, you know? I'd rather you just focus on getting better."

"You're a god, Nanami. You need at least one functioning familiar in this shrine," he muttered, and something about it — _you're a god_ — _you need a familiar_ — made her feel as if huge walls had risen between them. Just a god, just a familiar?

"You're — but you're not just — my familiar, you know? You're...you're the one that I...care about a lot. And I really want you to get better. So...so that we can get back to how we always were."

With Tomoe being lively, and teasing, and maybe even — kissing her — again. She watched him, her heart falling lower and lower when he didn't reply. Finally, when he answered, it was to ask: "Why are you awake right now, anyway?"

"I...I have a test tomorrow...I'm so stressed out about it that I can't sleep."

He looked back at her, finally, and she swallowed when he looked back. He looked much better than he had in days, though his eyes were hooded, and he still looked pale. He moved the sake jar aside and patted the floor beneath it, and Nanami's heart raced as she sat beside him. Even just inches away, she could feel his warmth; his hand brushed hers and a charge went through her, though he withdrew soon and she realized he had only been placing the sake cup in her hand. He lifted the jar, graceful, and filled the cup to the brim with pale yellow liquid.

"Drink it," he told her. "That will help you sleep."

She glanced at him. He watched as she raised the cup up, unevenly, spilling a some that ran down her wrist. She tipped it to her mouth and took a sip, shuddering as it burned in her mouth. it wasn't..._too_ unpleasant...but she downed the rest of it in one gulp anyway, coughing lightly.

"Thanks," she said, rubbing her mouth and handing the cup back.

"Of course. Pouring sake for a god is a familiar's duty. Though I suppose I've never done it for you before now."

There he went again with the god and familiar thing. She but her lip.

"Am I really just a god to you now?" she asked, more sharply than she intended, and he blinked at her.

"No...of course not."

"Then what? What's wrong? I know you're not okay," she told him. "And I — really wish — you would tell me why. I mean — you've obviously been avoiding me — and I don't know — did I do something recently? Something wrong?"

He set the cup in his lap, looked down at it.

"That's not it."

"Then maybe — maybe it was too long ago for you? The times we had together? I — I would understand that," she tried to convince herself, "I mean I — I could see that I'm I — n-not really the Yukiji that y-you expected -"

He turned when he heard her voice waver and she swiped the back of her hand angrily over her eyes.

"S-sorry — I just — sorry, Tomoe. I — was just so happy when I found you in the mirror, and I kept telling myself, that when you came back, I wouldn't hold back anymore — I'd tell you how much I like you, all the time — so much that you'd never, ever forget. But" I — she took a deep breath I — "I guess that's just me being selfish after all, right? Because I guess I — maybe I — you don't feel that way after all. Just tell me. Just _tell_ me," she demanded, and Tomoe snapped.

"Fine! It _is_ different since my memory came back. Alright? It is. How I feel about you is different. You I — you —" He made fists around the sake jar. "You terrify me."

She blinked. He ground his teeth at her confused face and looked back at the sake jar in his lap.

"When Yukiji...when _you_...when I thought you died...I couldn't..." He slumped against the wall. "When I was waiting for you outside the castle, I saw things everywhere that I wanted to take for you — more of those trees you liked — every time I saw them I would think to myself, _I'm going to take her there. _I waited and waited for you to come down from that castle. And when you died, I — I realized I was waiting for nothing. I was one of the most powerful demons anyone knew and there was nothing I could do to have you with me. I could wait for forever and you would never meet me again — never smile at me again — my death would come sooner than seeing you again, and even in death I would just fade away, without you."

"But I'm here," Nanami protested, "you waited, and I'm here," and he snorted.

"For how long? A fraction of the amount I've waited? When you die, will I just have to wait for you again, some version from some completely different world? Or yet another predecessor?" He was blinking fast; he rubbed his sleeve across his eye, shook his head, started again.

"I love you," he said, pouring another cup of sake, "so much that I don't know what's going to happen to me when I lose you again," and as he lifted the cup up she grabbed his arm and shook it out of his grip. The cup clattered onto the porch.

"_What_ —"

She kissed him — leaned forward over the sake jar, into him. He was firm with shock and for a moment raised his hands as if to shake her off, but she took his wrists and held him until his fingers relaxed, until his nails reached and dragged across her hair, pulling her face closer. His mouth was warm and soft and then demanding — she felt him run his tongue across her lips, bite lightly — she reached out her tongue in kind and he met it with his, sucking, strange and yet compelling. Her heart shuddered. He tasted like sake. They pulled away, millimeters apart, and catching breath.

"I'm sorry I had to leave you," she whispered. "I'm sorry you wandered all by yourself, Tomoe. I promise I won't leave you again."

His mouth thinned. "You can't promise that."

"There's a way. There has to be. I'm a god," she said, "and that's — that's what gods do. That's what they're meant to do: grant wishes. Just wish for it, Tomoe!" she urged. "Do it! Give me a wish," and Tomoe regarded her, her smile, her eyes filled with so much light just to see him. He swallowed.

"All I wish for right now is to be with you."

She blushed. "W-well — I can definitely grant that one."

"Prove it," he told her, "make the contract," and she flushed but obliged, moved the sake jar aside and crawled forward, kneeled over him and pulled his face to hers, covered his mouth. She felt him sigh and continued, nibbled his lip, and he reached up and put his hands on her back and pulled her sitting into his lap. Her right leg crooked over his hip, and her left dangled off the edge of the porch.

It was a strange position and he abandoned it, gently laid her back on the porch, cushioning her head with a sleeved arm, giving her room to keep both legs on the porch. He pushed her chin up with his nose and kissed the soft, trembling skin beneath — felt her shudder and stiffen beneath him — he took his time, trailing, feeling her heart beat faster and faster against his mouth. He sucked at her quivering throat and she gasped and thrashed and her hand cuffed the half-full sake jar, which tipped and spilled and seeped immediately over the back of her clothing.

"Oh — oh no, sorry —"

"It's fine — are you okay?"

"Yeah — yeah, I'm fine, it was just — really tickly — watch out for the sake bottle," she said in dismay, "I think there's still some inside." She stretched for it, but he swept it out of the reach of her wiggling fingers, swished the contents around, and then poured some over her chest and belly.

"T — _To_ —?!"

"I'm sorry, Nanami-sama," he muttered, "looks like I'll have to clean you up," and he began undoing the buttons on her soggy shirt, peeling the sides back to expose her bra. He moved over her, kissing her exposed and flushing skin — the hollow at the base of her throat, her collarbone, her sternum. He licked the sake from her skin, leaving it shiny and prickly with goosebumps.

She shuddered and his hands met hers, locked fingers. Her hands tightened and loosened alternately and he met pressure for pressure, not holding her down but stabilizing her, and keeping her from stifling her little gasps and moans as he licked at the sensitive skin over her ribs. Her voice filled his ears and made him feel dizzy, hungry — the sake might have contributed too — but this was so much more exquisite than any drunkenness he'd subjected himself too before — and his mind was so clear. He wanted her. He wanted to feel her body, to see her squirm, to make some impression on her that would last forever.

He brushed his lips against her ear. His voice was hoarse. "I have another wish," he whispered, and it was strange now how his voice could her entire body into little trembles that she couldn't control. She managed, "What is it?"

"Take this off," he answered, putting a finger on the middle of her bra, and she felt her face grow warm again but whether in anticipation or embarrassment she couldn't tell. She arched her back, fitting her hands between her shoulder blades, and he helped hold her up until the clasp snapped. His hands smoothed across her rib cage, caught her bra in his thumbs, and pushed it up. She cringed. He stopped.

"No?"

"No — no, I mean, I'm cold — I'm just cold. And — and kind of embarrassed," she admitted, looking away, and he tipped her face back to him.

"There's no need to be embarrassed," he told her. "You're..." He hesitated, and then just blurted it. "You're beautiful. You're my — my beautiful god."

She covered her mouth to cover up a ridiculous smile — not just at what he said, but the fact it was Tomoe saying it, his eyes averted and ears flat and cheeks flushed, out of character and adorable.

"...okay," she said, muffled.

"And I'll take care of the cold too," he continued, and placed his fingertips over her chest, tracing out light spirals until her nipples peaked and then rubbing deeper, licking out any bit of sake left on them before focusing on her nipples, which he nibbled lightly, lightly, and then sucked while she gasped and arched and writhed beneath him. His hair tickled across her skin.

"Cold anymore?" he said cheerfully after a while, and she swallowed.

"N-no..." She laughed shakily. "I-if anything I'm — a little too hot now."

"I can take care of that too," he told her, and she felt his nails against her belly, felt his fingers hook on her pajama pants and tug. She lifted up her legs — rested the back of one ankle on his shoulder — and he tugged off her pants, setting them aside. She started to put her legs down but he caught her ankle and began to kiss it, and moved down, stretching her leg out — the back of her calves — the back of her knee — the back of her thigh, places where the skin was supple and sensitive. He pushed her out so she had room to lie down while he knelt and kissed her, and when his mouth reached the hem of her underwear she murmured, "I don't think there's sake there."

"I haven't been doing this for the sake," he murmured back, and, impatient, hooked his nail in the side of her underwear and pulled, cutting it off completely. She gasped and he saw that she was wet already, very, and the smell of her was so inviting, and he grabbed her bottom, thumbs against her hip bones while he leaned in, licking the lips of her slit, moving up and down across each with the tip of his tongue before laying the broad part of it against her, dragging from bottom to top. Nanami cried out — spasmed — he held her tighter and pressed his tongue in deeper, and she sat up and her fingers twisted in his hair, yanked it, and he gripped her tighter and circled his lips around her, kissing, nudging. He felt her nails on his skull. Her moans were becoming airy, and louder despite herself, and after a while she sighed, "Stop, stop," and he did, looking up at her breathlessly.

"What's…what's the matter?"

"I…I don't…it started to feel…" She could hardly speak for trying to calm herself, for trying to rub the red out of her cheeks.

"Already? That's fine. That means I'm doing my job well," he explained, somewhat smugly, and she shook her head.

"I don't…I mean, aren't I also supposed…?"

"Don't worry about that now," he told her, and she bit her lip. Her eyes flashed at the sake jar and before he could stop her she had grabbed it and flung the remaining contents at him. He looked down in shock. There was sake all over his front. It was dripping from his chin and before he could protest she stretched forward and kissed it off, licking lightly, coughing a bit as she withdrew.

"Wow," she coughed, "that's really strong," and he rubbed his forehead. Was this really happening right now?

"I thought this through!" she argued before he could comment, "watch," and she grabbed the front of his clothing and pulled it, yanking the sides out from his sash until his chest was bare and the sash itself loosened and fell down his waist. He bit his lip as she knelt toward him and began to kiss his chest. She managed only a few before her face puckered and darkened.

"…sorry, Tomoe," she said finally, patting at his chest dry with the sides of his kimono, and she was so cute, and so beautiful, and he pulled her into his lap again. He saw goosebumps on her skin and put his arms around her, wrapped the sides of his kimono around her, making sure she kept close. When her weight fell on him he felt his breath choke and released it as calmly as possible.

"Move your hips up and down," he advised, quietly, and she did, leaning forward and back, rubbing against his chest as she moved, warmth on warmth. His breath was even but became louder. It blew against the hair on her shoulder and he gripped her tighter and tighter against him, pressing her down by her back against his growing hardness, and this time when she kissed him his mouth was hard and made a groan against her that made her reach down to his pants and in. Her hand found him and wrapped around, and he pressed his head against her shoulder.

"Nanami," he whined, "I…"

"Me too," she gasped, "I want to too," but she couldn't quite move with him clutching her, and they were too close to the wall now for her to move her legs properly, and without further ado he stood, lifting her easily, and shoved her against the wall. She gasped and scrabbled at it but he pressed his mouth against her ear — "I won't drop you" — and as he fit her legs around him she moved him free and against her. The moment he felt aligned he thrust up and neither could help a cry as they joined, as she felt full to brimming, as he felt enveloped by all her heat and softness. He held for a moment, to acclimate, to see if she felt pain, but when she did nothing but gaze at him with hazy pleasure he withdrew and thrust again, and again, his head burying itself against her, her arms around his neck, his teeth grazing her throat, lightly, with fervor. She panted, tilting her head up, concentrating on him, on how firmly he held her, on the feeling of him so hot and perfect against her, on the feeling growing in the pit of her stomach like foxfire.

He was speeding up and the friction was making her body tighten, tighten — all at once she felt his body tense and as he pushed he moved in further than he had before, touching the center of her, and all the fires stored in her belly burst larger, burst across her skin. She cried out and her grip tightened — she felt that she might be falling — and then all at once she was expended, the fires gone and leaving her a simple human, slack and shivery in Tomoe's arms. Still holding her, he turned, slamming his back to the wall and sliding down, panting, until he was sitting, with her still wrapped around him. He wrapped his kimono around her again, and leaned his head back, exhausted. Nanami rested her head against him, feeling wonderful, snug, together.

"Did that grant your wish?" she ventured finally, a hoarse whisper, and his ear flicked; he opened an eye to glance at her, then away.

"Of course," he replied finally, and rubbed his hand through her hair. "As expected of my…Nanami. Even doing something as simple as as passing a test is nothing for you, right?"

"Aaughh, why did you have to remind me? I had totally forgotten about all that! And I was all ready to go to sleep, too…"

"That's too bad," he said, brightly. "Maybe we should take more of Mizuki's sake."

"Ugh, no! There's no way that I can drink even a little bit more of that stuff."

"Who said it was for you?" He grinned. "Or that it was for drinking?"


End file.
